by Emerson Rose
I press my lips together, and he looks at me with warning. Ignoring his unspoken threat, I stare him down and take him in my hands. He clenches his jaw and inhales through his nose. I reach under the water to cup his balls, and he hisses as I run my finger across the space between his balls and his glorious cock. His eyes roll back into his head and he moans my name.
“Imani, you don’t listen very well, lady.”
“What?” I answer innocently, raising my eyebrows.
“You… don’t… have, oh fuck it, that feels so fucking good, yeah, just like that.”
It’s his turn to grip the sides of the tub. I love that I can make him lose control like this. Me, Imani Jefferson: inexperienced, innocent, and previously-terrified-of-sex Imani.
Working him with both hands now, I slide them up and down and over the top, just the way he showed me in his shower, until he comes with a shout, spurting hot and slick into my hands.
That was just as satisfying for me as it was for him, well maybe. I kneel forward and kiss him chastely on the nose. “Now you are ready for work.”
“That I am,” he says.
I stand up and help him out of the tub, which incidentally is a little more difficult than getting him in, but we manage.
Wrapped in warm, thick towels from a heated rack, we make our way back to his bathroom. We shower, and I sit on the vanity naked while I shave his face for him. He leans on his crutches while I work with my legs wrapped around his waist. When I’ve helped him dress, he heads to the dining room for breakfast while I finish drying my hair.
“Don’t be too long.”
“Why?” I ask.
“We have a full day. I have to go to Dominus, and we are going shopping.”
“Shopping? What for?”
“You’ll see.”
“Uh-uh, no way. If you’re thinking about shopping for me, forget it. You spent a gazillion dollars on flowers yesterday. I can’t accept anything more.” I shake my hands back and forth in protest and take a step away from him.
“Really, Imani, I thought you’d finally learned my number one rule: I always get what I want. And I want to take you shopping, so we are going shopping, period. Dry your hair,” he says, leaving me with my mouth hanging open and a little pissed.
“Close that beautiful mouth, Imani,” he calls over his shoulder, as he click-clacks away. I turn to the mirror where I see my mouth agape. I snap it shut and stomp my foot once in frustration. I love the flowers. I don’t need anything else. It’s frustrating because I know I can never reciprocate his generosity. What do you give to a man who has everything?
Twenty-Seven
“I want you to drive,” he says, taking a drink of coffee. I’m surprised that he lets anyone other than Mr. Black drive his cars.
“What about Mr. Black?” I ask.
“I am sick of riding in the back. I want to drive myself but since I can’t, that leaves you.”
“Oh, well, thanks for considering me as a last resort.” I snort, silently pointing at a plate of bacon Maria has prepared that’s out of my reach. He hands it over, but when I reach to take it he pins me with a stern look and refuses to let it go.
“You are never a last resort, Imani. Never,” he says releasing the plate.
I was just kidding. He needs to relax, even though it’s one of the sweetest things anyone has ever said to me.
“And I love your smart mouth,” he adds with a wink. It’s not fair to wink at the breakfast table.
“Maria, is everything lined up for this evening?” he asks.
“Yes, everything will be ready.”
“What’s going on this evening?” I hope his plans include me because I need to talk to him about going back to work at the hospital.
“We’re having dinner in the formal dining room tonight.”
Bingo. Perfect. I can bring it up from across the table, where he can’t touch me and change my mind. I need a clear head for this, he’s not going to take it easily, and I know he’ll do everything he can to manipulate me into continuing on as his private nurse. But I can’t keep taking money for doing nothing. I’ll stay here with him, as his girlfriend or whatever I’ve become but not as a nurse.
I plan on keeping my apartment; my family would freak if they knew I was living with a man I was supposed to be working for. Especially when I’ve known him less than a month.
“What’s the occasion?” I ask.
“No occasion, I just want to dress up and have dinner with you. It’s still awkward going out, so I’m bringing Dominus to you.”
“Why thank you, Mr. Castillo.”
“You are most welcome, Miss Jefferson.” After breakfast, we bundle up to go to Dominus; it’s been a cold fall and I hate the cold.
“You’re pouting, I love it. If you add that little foot stomp that you do, I may have to take you back to bed,” he says, biting one side of his lip to stifle a laugh while he watches me put on my coat and scarf.
“I hate the cold!” I didn’t mean for him to see my foot stomp; it’s childish, but I can’t help it.
“Let me take you someplace warm then.”
“Oh no, you spoil me every single day. I told you I’m not accepting anything else, especially a trip, uh-uh.” I shake my head, and he lets out an exaggerated sigh and rolls his eyes.
“You are very stubborn, lady. I’ll break you, though, you’ll see.”
I am very stubborn. And he’s pigheaded. I don’t want gifts, I just want him. Why can’t he see that?
“Mr. Castillo, I am stubborn and I will not be broken. If you try to give me another gift, I will send it back. Period.”
He stands up and roars with laughter. As he moves past, he stops to kiss me on the forehead. He’s infuriating! It’s all I can do not to stomp my foot.
“Come on, you need to cool off before you drive me anywhere. I am afraid to let you behind the wheel while you are all worked up.” He makes his way through the double doors. And I can’t help it any more, I stomp. It’s just a tiny one, and there’s no way he could have seen.
“I saw that,” he says with his back to me. Fucking hell, he does know everything.
The car waiting for us is not the Maybach, far from it; this thing screams DANGEROUS! It’s a black two-door something or other. Getting him into a two-door car ought to be interesting with a cast.
He hands me the key fob. Ferrari?
“Uh… first off, are you sure you want me driving this, and second, how are you going to get in that little thing?”
“Yes, I’m sure, Imani. I trust you with my life. And you will be surprised, it’s bigger than you think, I’ll just push the seat back.” I hesitate at the doors of the house staring at the little monster car. “Mmm, I dunno, Marcus. If I mess it up or if anything happens, I could never replace it.”
“Oh for shit’s sake, Imani, get in the car. I told you I trust you, let’s go.” Damn it, he really wants me to drive that thing. I’m sure it’s insured, and I’ve never had an accident. I guess I’ll be really careful. Okay, I’ve officially talked myself into it.
I help him move the seat back and watch as he folds his sizable frame into the passenger seat before stepping around to the driver’s side. The interior is black, the car is black, and if it were dark out I think we would be invisible.
I melt into the seat and look to Marcus for instruction. I’ve never seen a steering wheel like the one in front of me and I have no idea how to even start this thing.
“Put the key in the ignition, press the red start button for a second,” he informs me. I do as he says and nearly jump out of my skin.
“Shit!” I yell when the growls of the engine vibrate through my body. Maybe I should rethink this?
“Good, it’s alright, that is just how it sounds,” he says in a futile attempt to soothe me. “Now before anything else, seatbelt.” Ok check, where’s the fucking seatbelt? I don’t want to do this.
“Now, look at the steering wheel, Imani. All of the controls are there,
everything you need is at your fingertips. Adjust the seat; it’s set for me, and you are too far away. Ok, now most importantly, be very gentle on the gas pedal; it’s extremely sensitive.”
No, no, this isn’t good. Why, why did I wear heels today? I give the wheel a death grip and ever so gently put my toes on the gas, and, thankfully, we make it out of the driveway without dying.
“See, you’re a natural.” He smiles broadly at me and strokes my arm closest to him.
“Don’t touch me, I’m totally freaked out right now. This car is a monster.” I snap. “Alright, alright baby, I am over here, you are over there, do your thing. You know the way to Dominus, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I answer through a tightly clenched jaw.
“Ok, then let’s go to work,” he says, like I’m driving a minivan. I’m a mess of nerves, scanning the road, checking mirrors incessantly, and my leg aches from the effort of keeping my toes gently on the pedal while wearing heels. We can’t get there soon enough for me.
I pull into the parking lot at Dominus and realize that, after getting used to it, I actually enjoyed driving the Ferrari.
It’s still too much power for my taste. I can’t wait for Marcus to get that damned cast off of his leg so he can drive. He directs me to his parking spot where I carefully pull in between two cars. We enter through the back again and head down to his office. It’s quiet this morning, I’m not even sure anyone is here yet.
“Anybody else come in this early?”
“No, I think it is just us for now. Cook will be here shortly, though, as he likes to get things going and organized before anyone else arrives to get in his way.”
“Cook, as in the chef?”
“Yes, I am the only one that calls him that anymore, I suppose. He has been with me since I opened the first Dominus in Italy. He demands respect in the kitchen, I like that. He is my executive chef, everyone else calls him Mr. Benassi.”
“How long are we going to be here?”
“A couple of hours. You brought your iPad, didn’t you?” Of course; I don’t leave home without it, but I’m not in the mood to sit around and read all morning. I really need to go to the gym. I wish I had thought to bring a change of clothes. I could have taken myself. But even if I had brought a bag, I would never drive that car alone, so reading it is.
“Yeah, I can read, or buy shoes.” Shoes being my weakness, that idea sounds much more appealing. I think I’ll look up lingerie while I’m at it. That’s something I can surprise him with; maybe a little payback for the flowers…and that teddy bear.
“We are going shopping later, don’t forget,” he says as we enter his masculine office and he arranges himself behind the mammoth desk. I help him adjust his pillows and plop on the couch.
“So, are you saying I shouldn’t buy shoes?” I ask.
“No, you can buy all the shoes you want. You have excellent taste in shoes, by the way. I love those.”
He nods toward my feet. He likes my shoes, huh? I wonder how much he knows about women’s shoes but I don’t ask. I might not like the answer. I need to leave him alone. The sooner he gets done with his work the sooner we can get out of here.
“Thank you.” I smile and pull out my iPad and commence shopping. A couple of pairs of shoes and some extremely hot lingerie purchases later, I’ve only killed an hour and I’m bored.
I could read a book but I have the urge to talk to Lana. Maybe I could go outside in the car and sit to talk to her so I don’t bother Marcus. I look up to ask him for the keys and find him leaning back in his chair, one elbow on the arm rest with his chin on his hand and his head back regarding me with his sharp green eyes. Sex radiates from every pore in his body.
“You’re not getting any work done.”
“Mmm, no, I am not. I underestimated the power of your presence, I thought I could work with you here.”
“Oh, I’m distracting you, am I?”
“You are so damned beautiful. I have done nothing in my life to be worthy of you.” I thought we were messing around again, but he’s being serious, and he’s wrong.
“Don’t say that,” I say softly, and he frowns at me.
“Why? It’s true.”
“Because I’m damaged, Marcus, unfixable.”
“Come here.” I cross the room and curl up in his lap, tucking my head under his chin like a child, as he wraps his arms around me stroking my arm up and down. “You. Are. Not. Damaged. Do you understand me? I cannot believe you just said that. If anyone is damaged in this relationship, it is myself. And you are not unfixable, because you are not broken. Sound familiar?” His arms tighten and he kisses the top of my head.
“Yeah,” I murmur.
“Alright then. I’m always right, yes?”
“Yes.”
“And I always get what I want, yes?”
I roll my eyes. “Yes.”
“Good, then we understand each other perfectly. I say you are not damaged and I say I want you, so there you have it.” He ends his pep talk with a gentle slap to my still-tender butt and a thrust of his hips encouraging me to stand.
“Can I have the keys to the car? I want to call Lana but I don’t want to disturb you.”
“On the desk.” He juts his chin in the direction of the keys. “Don’t drive it without me, though,” he warns.
“Yeah, well, you don’t ever have to worry about that.”
He chuckles, and I grab my coat to go outside. I slide into the seat and review Marcus’s earlier instructions. Okay, key in the ignition and press the red button.
The car roars to life. Now I need to figure out how to turn on the radio. That only takes me approximately five minutes to figure out with all of these buttons. What ever happened to fancy cars having a touch screen panel?
Fix You by Coldplay drifts from the speakers, making me think of Marcus and then of myself. We could both use some fixing. After a few more minutes of carefully looking at the controls I conquer the heat and take out my phone to dial Lana.
“Hey! Damn, woman, ‘bout time you decided to call me back!” Lana yells when she answers, and I pull the phone away from my ear.
“Sorry, I’ve been busy.”
“Uh yeah… I’ll bet. Busy getting it on with that hunk of a man you’re working for, girl!” God, she always blurts out what she's thinking, zero filter. She hit the nail on the head, though; that’s exactly what I’ve been up to.
“About that, I’m going to tell him tonight that I can’t work for him anymore, I need to go back to the hospital.”
“What for? He’s paying you three times your salary and the setup sounds pretty sweet to me. Why would you wanna go and ruin a great gig?”
“It’s just wrong; it feels wrong. I’m not doing anything to earn that money. I pass him the occasional sleeping pill and prop his leg up here and there, but I’m just not doing anything. And… we’re sleeping together… taking money from him makes me feel like a whore.”
“Ah shit, you’re sleeping together, I knew it!” Leave it to Lana to pick out that part of the conversation to concentrate on. “So, how’s the sex? Is he a machine like I said? I know he is, with a body like that he has to be. And you have to explain how you maneuver around that cast. Damn, woman, I knew you were up to something!”
“Lana, I need help here, listen to me. You’re not listening to me.”
“Sorry, sorry, I am too listening to you; listening to you talk stupid. What if you were married to him and you gave him some pills and propped his pillows? He’d be paying the bills and you’d be takin’ care of him, that don’t make you a whore. What’s the difference? It’s all relationship shit, give and take, woman, you know.”
“Married? Well, that would be legal; there would be a marriage certificate.” Why the hell is she talking about marriage?
“You’re not a whore, Imani. Shit, you’re the furthest thing from a whore I’ve ever known. He wants you there, so he’s using the nurse thing as an excuse to keep you to himself, like all to hi
mself. And ya know… whatever… if you get along and he treats you good, why go rockin’ the boat?”
It’s then that I realize that Lana's advice isn’t exactly what I need right now; she’s all about money and sex. I need to work. I have to take care of someone in a fulfilling way so that I feel like I’m making a difference. It’s what pulled me through the hardest time of my life. I need to help others heal.
“You’re right, Lana.” There’s no other way to get her to leave it alone; I have to agree with her if I want to end the conversation.
“Damn right I’m right, so when ya gonna make up that girl’s night out? You bailed after one drink, and we need to get out there and shake some ass!”
“Let me figure this thing out with Marcus, and I’ll let you know when I’m available.”
“Shit, that’ll be the twelfth of never girl. He’s got it bad for you. I bet he won’t let you outta his sight for one second.” For some reason that gets my blood pumping, maybe because it’s true. Still, nobody tells me what to do.
“We like each other, Lana, but he doesn’t control me. I’m still my own independent self.”
“Yeah, whatever, you bolted from girl’s night, ignored calls from your family and friends, quit your job, moved in with him, and you haven’t left his side since. Sounds really independent.”
She’s right, he is controlling me. It’s hard to see when you’re in the eye of the storm, but when your best friend puts it out there like that, it becomes crystal clear.
“You have a point.”
“Of course I do. I’m not saying it’s wrong or anything. He’s sweeping ya off your feet, and that’s cool. Just don’t let him swallow you whole.”
“Thanks, Lana.” Maybe I did need her advice after all.
“You’re welcome. Now I gotta get back to work before I get fired. Some of us still have a real job!” She erupts into laughter, but her comment cements my decision.
I’m going back to work, to my real job. We say our goodbyes, and I promise to call more often. I lie my head back on the seat and close my eyes for a second but I get the weird sensation that someone’s watching me.